No Angels

Chapter 10

"I don't mean to burst your bubble, Erik," Heather replied, trying not to let out a bitter laugh, "But Charles and I have been trying for almost a week to get my power to work. Can't we just accept that all I can do is talk to the dead?"

Erik shook his head, a determined look in his eye. "No. Because now we know something that will help."

"And what if it doesn't work?"

"Then we'll find something else," Charles interrupted, "We're not giving up on you." For some reason, that sentence had a warm feeling spreading through Heather's stomach, and she couldn't help but smile. "Fine, fine. But make it quick. You said yourself that we need to get plenty of rest for tomorrow." Charles chuckled at that, before glancing back at Erik to continue.

"You need to focus - "

" - I am focusing, I just - "

" - No." Erik stopped her, a sharp look in his gaze shocking her into silence, "You're not. You may look you are, but you're not truly focused. Someone once told me that true focus lies somewhere between rage and serenity - " Out of the corner of her eye, Heather spotted a smug look on Charles' face, " - Now... I need you to think of a happy memory."

Heather looked at him in confusion, but seeing that there was no joking smirk on his face, she obeyed. She closed her eyes and thought hard about her past. She thought of her father; the gentle giant with his curly beard, his rough laugh, his strong arms and his twinkling eyes. She thought of her mother; the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen, a girl with movie star looks but with a heart of ice. She thought of her mother standing in front of the mirror day and night, pinching at the fat on her hips and hissing at her over and over, "You did this, you did this, you did this."

The bruises under her mother's eyes that she collected after her father's funeral, the blank stare that followed like she had died along with her husband. She thought of the pills and the sobbing and - "Stop that." The voice echoed in her skull, and Heather realized with a start that Charles had been watching the memories too. She felt a gentle tug somewhere in her mind, before she saw it: her mother's laugh and the way she had looked at her husband, with pure and utter adoration. 

The good memories continued after that with her older half-brother; with his boyish charm and easy smile that had girls falling hard for him. She thought of peeking into his casket once he returned from Germany, hearing the whispers of "He was too young, too young." How her father had hugged the folded flag like it was his own son, and the way her mother had winced each time the gun was shot into the sky. But to avoid bad thoughts, she remembered the joy she had felt when he had returned as a spirit - her own little secret.

Heather felt a warmness spread throughout her entire body and it got warmer and warmer, until a surge of energy and strength went through her and, with a gasp, shot out of her fingertips.

"Ow!" Charles yelped and Heather's eyes shot open to find Erik gaping at her and Charles rubbing his shoulder. "What - How - " She looked back and forth between the two, trying to get an answer on what the hell had just happened. Charles' eyebrows furrowed in thought for a moment, before his eyes widened almost comically. "That's it!" He exclaimed.